


Growing Up Pureblood

by dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap/pseuds/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap
Summary: Young Lucius is taught the Malfoy family values.





	Growing Up Pureblood

_“…kept trying to talk to the filth. He’s growing up to be a Muggle lover…”_

_“LUCIUS!”_

At the age of six, Lucius Malfoy knew that the shrill screech from his mother meant he was in _deep_ trouble. But he was too fast for her, before she could turn around and grab his hand to reprimand him harshly for the horrible deed he had done, Lucius ran out of the room, as fast as his short legs would let him.

 

He ran down the long dark corridors of Malfoy Manor. His normally pale face was flushed and his grey eyes were bright with worry, darting around anxiously to pinpoint the slightest movement. Imagination running wild, he forgot about his mum and instead envisioned an angry fire-breathing dragon searching for him, ready to gobble him up whole.

 

In one swift movement he pulled out a plastic brown colored toy wand, whipped it in the air and muttered random words to himself, making up spell after spell behind his back, trying to deflect the ‘dragon.’

 

Breathing heavily, he came to an abrupt stop outside his daddy’s office. He wasn’t allowed anywhere near it, whether the door was open or closed. His dad told him constantly to stay away from _his_ side of the house but he hadn’t been paying attention to where he was running off too. Surely he had gone left instead of right, to the direction of his room but he had always been terrible at remembering his right from his left.

 

Lucius looked down at his feet that were planted on the soft dark red carpet and shook his wand at them, angry that they hadn’t taken him in the right direction. He was shaking, something that usually happened when he was very cold. He didn’t understand why he was nervous. Why should he be nervous of his parents? They were always yelling at him but he was used to it.

 

He couldn’t help that he was a curious child.

 

He gulped, pocketed his wand and placed his hand to the office door. He could hear booming voices inside the room. The door felt hot against his hand and he jumped away from it, wondering if his father had some kind of spell on the door that knew Lucius wasn’t supposed to be near it.

 

He pouted and crossed his arms against his chest. Surely there should have been a way around the spell. He was always dodging the ones from his mum that tried to glue him to her for the day. He was quick and smart, besides, a _little_ pain wouldn’t hurt too badly.

 

What was so secretive that Lucius couldn’t go inside the room?

 

Standing in the dark corridor, Lucius thought to himself. ‘ _What do I do?_ ’ He wanted to go inside, but turning the knob didn’t seem like the best idea. There were others in the room, others that could have been like the dragon he was supposed to be hiding from.

 

A look of dread fell on his face.

 

What if the dragon had gotten to his daddy before him? What if the others inside the room were hurting him?

 

No, he was strong, everyone feared his daddy. Whenever they went outside the others always bowed down to him, or stepped out of his way. He was like a king or a knight! Maybe he was fighting them off right now, spells were being casted, green, blue, and red colors would be fired around the room. His daddy wouldn’t hide himself but stand strong against the attacks; his dark grey eyes dancing with mischief and long blonde hair acting like a shield.

 

Quickly, Lucius pulled out his toy wand from his trouser pocket and mustered up the meanest face he could and eyed the doorknob in front of him. Using his free hand, he gripped the doorknob and turned it. He flung the door open, rushed inside, wand at the ready.

 

The room was silent, the only flickers were coming from the candles that were lit inside the room. Lucius’s eyes darted around, searching for the face of his dad. Instead they passed the annoyed faces of men he couldn’t remember, all dressed in black and standing with their wands pointing at him.

 

Nervously, he backed up, until his eyes fell on his dad, the looming figure standing next to his desk, glaring at his son with anger.

 

“I have guests, Lucius,” he said, motioning to the men that had pocketed their wands.

 

They still looked scary and Lucius tried his hardest to not shake or show the disappointment on his face because his dad had been fine after all.

 

“Sorry, Daddy.”

 

His father cringed as the men smirked at him.

 

“You’re much too vibrant of a child,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“Your son isn’t shaping up to be strong—“ One of the men croaked out.

 

Lucius cringed, hanging his head, staring at the red-carpeted floor. He didn’t want to look into the angry eyes of his father, whenever someone mentioned his name around him he always got mad and that’s when the yelling would begin.

 

“The way I see him run around—“ Another exclaimed, tapping his foot impatiently.

 

The sound was loud and scared Lucius who was still clutching his wand, ready for an attack to break out. The thought of his mum, the fire-breathing dragon, was long gone from his mind.

 

“He’s much too kind,” the third one whispered, walking from his spot, slowly towards Lucius.

 

He whimpered as the man crouched down, so he could be eye-level with him but Lucius looked away and rushed towards his dad’s desk, wrapping himself behind his leg for protection.

 

The man rose from the crouched position, staring at his dad with dark brown eyes. His curled mustache made Lucius wonder if food ever got stuck in it, mind wandering of little ants crawling around on the mans upper lip he almost didn’t realize his dad’s loud intake of breath as the man said harshly, “He’s a Muggle lover.”

 

His dad, in one swift motion, whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man. The others disappeared with a loud ‘crack’ from the room. Lucius tried not to blink, for fear he would miss his dad’s spell, wanting to mimic it as he held out his own toy wand and gripped his dad’s calf as if he was a tree trunk.

 

Before Abraxas Malfoy could shout out a spell, his wife barged into the room, huffing slightly as she positioned herself in-between her husband and the nameless man. Seeing a window of opportunity the man left and Lucius was left to pocket his wand and dash underneath the mahogany desk, away from his parents who had started yelling at each other.

 

He covered his ears with his hands and brought his knees closely to his chin, the shouting seeping through his fingers.

 

“Do you know how much this will harm his reputation!” Abraxas shouted, banging his fist on the desk.

 

The desk shook and Lucius shook with it. To his ears it sounded like something had collapsed. He didn’t know if he should grab his wand and join his parents in the fight against the beast that was sure to hurt them or stay underneath the desk like the coward he seemed to be.

 

“I just want him to have friends. There are barely any pureblood children his age,” he heard his mum cry out.

 

She sounded like she was in pain, making Lucius envision a deep cut on her head that seeped a crimson red blood. He didn’t like blood; tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of his mum hurt.

 

Who would tuck him into bed at night then? His daddy did an awful job, usually leaving Lucius with a stiff neck the next morning.

 

There was a loud sigh and Lucius wrinkled his nose as his dad appeared, bending down and staring at his small son.

 

“S-sorry,” Lucius managed to mumble out, noticing the angry look on his father’s face. If he had a chocolate frog he would have given him one, they always made him happy.

 

“Lucius, come out from underneath there.”

 

Lucius didn’t say anything. He quickly crawled out from where he was hiding out and stood up. His mum was gone and the room finally felt peaceful and safer with him and his dad inside of it. It was still dark thanks to the black decorations and dimly lit candles but it felt inviting to Lucius as he climbed onto his dad’s leather black chair, sitting crossed legged and staring at him with a stony expression.

 

“Lucius,” he began exasperatedly. Lucius didn’t understand why his dad sounded so tired and wanted to ask him if he needed a nap. He himself yawned; it was almost time for his. “We don’t talk to Muggles, do we?”

 

For reasons unknown to Lucius, he felt like an answer would only anger his dad. So he stayed silent and stared at him, the word ‘sorry’ at the tip of his tongue.

 

“Daddy, I never meant…” He didn’t know what else to say.

 

What didn’t he mean to do? Didn’t his dad understand? There were barely any other magical boys to play with. He always had to play alone and Quidditch couldn’t be played with one person or worst, his mum, girls shouldn’t play Quidditch and his mum always got the name of the balls mixed up.

 

The Muggle kids he ran into when running off from his mum or her friends in the park always asked him to play, though they made fun of his black cloak and asked if he was a ‘vampire.’

 

For all Lucius knew about vampires he was sure he didn’t fit the description. He really didn’t like blood.

 

“Little boys say daddy, address me as father.”

 

Lucius didn’t say anything. _Father_? The word felt cold and distant. It didn’t sound warm like daddy. His _daddy_ was never this angry with him! His stomach felt funny, like he had eaten one too many yucky green vegetables and he was going to be sick.

 

He whimpered, but stopped himself from crying. His f…father didn’t like crying.

 

“Lucius, have you been trying to play with Muggles?”

 

Lucius averted his eyes from his father, staring at his feet. By the sound of his voice he knew he was angry. His parents had told him so many times.

 

“Lucius, have you been trying to play with Muggles?” he repeated, placing his hand underneath his son’s chin, gently prodding it so he would look up.

 

“N…y-yes.”

 

He just wanted to get away. In his mind he was running for a target, for someone to save him and take him away.

 

Silently, his father scooped him up in his arms. He could have sworn he heard crying in the background, but his mum wasn’t in the room, maybe, like everything else it was all in Lucius’s head.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucius felt sicker than ever as he reappeared in his father’s arms in a dark alley. The elder Malfoy placed his son on the ground, getting his bearings and then grabbed his son’s small hand, forcing him to walk forwards.

 

Lucius walked quickly next to him, eyeing the dark alley with curiosity. He didn’t like the dark but he wasn’t afraid of it. His father said he was not afraid of anything, that Malfoy men were strong.

 

“Dad—“

 

His father held up his hand, shushing Lucius and ushered him behind him. Lucius held onto his father’s leg and peered around him as he placed a disillusionment charm on the two of them.

 

A short distance in front of them, a woman had hurriedly turned into the alleyway. She was shivering and holding a black bag tightly to her chest.

 

Lucius tugged on his father’s cloak and watched as he slowly raised his wand, whispering a spell so silently, Lucius could have sworn he wasn’t saying anything at all. A jet of light slammed into the woman’s back and she fell to the floor in a heap, screaming in pain. Her blonde hair fell out, sweeping across her face and her blue eyes filled with tears as she screamed.

 

Lucius let go of his father’s cloak and watched with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as his father whispered the same spell again. His eyes were hard, focused. His hand was steady as the jet of light rushed out.

 

“Malfoy men are strong, pure,” Abraxas hissed, not taking his eyes off of the woman.

 

She was shouting but all Lucius could hear were the words of his father while he watched the woman wither in pain on the ground.

 

His lip quivered and this time his eyes filled with tears that quickly rolled down his pale cheeks.

 

“No, Lucius, you must not cry,” his father commanded.

 

Lucius didn’t look at him but he wiped at the flowing tears quickly, wishing they would go away so he could go home and hide in his room forever.

 

He tried to think of things that he liked, Quidditch, going through his mum’s rose bushes and pulling the flowers out, playing around in the mud after rainy days. Those good memories felt tainted. He wanted to run into his room, slam the door shut and drink warm milk while his mum rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whispering stories about dragons and gold.

 

_It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. It’s just a…_

“I’m not doing this to scare you, son,” Abraxas said, whispering another spell that shot out of his wand and this time the woman fell to the floor, limp, unmoving. Her screaming was no more, the alley was silent and Lucius turned to his father, unable to think of what to say. “I’m doing this so you’ll know what’s right from wrong. Look how she cries, she begs, why?”

 

Lucius paused, trying to think long and hard. “Because…she’s a Muggle?” he questioned.

 

He knew it was the right answer when his father nodded his head and his grey eyes shined brightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. His chest swelled with pride as his father patted his blonde head and said, “She’s not strong. Even if she had an ounce of magic in her, she wouldn’t be able to fight us because _we_ are strong.”

 

He didn’t say anything because he didn’t know what to say. He had never seen a spell _hurt_ anyone before. Sure he had seen small spells that threw people back into the wall or shot fire at an opponent. Normally it was when his father had guests over and they told him stories, making the memories of their adventures come alive.

 

Lucius stared at the woman on the ground. The darkness casted a shadow on her body and he wondered if she was real. He wondered if he could one day do the same thing to someone.

 

If he _would_ do the same thing to someone and how it felt.

 

His hand clutched his toy wand and he sniffled.

 

“Do you understand why you must not to talk Muggles?” Abraxas asked, still ruffling Lucius’s hair. “Do you understand, Lucius?”

 

Lucius nodded and pointed his wand to ground. “Yes, father,” he whispered, turning his back from the Muggle woman and clutching his father’s hand with his free one.

 

The two walked back towards the darkness they had come from. Lucius took one last look at the body on the floor before they disappeared. He wasn’t scared anymore as he clutched his wand in his hand because he realized with it, no one could ever hurt him.

 

Especially not a _Muggle_.


End file.
